Untouchable: a Fred Weasley fanfiction

Observation of Humankind

Is it weird to become friends with your Professor?

Look, I'm not a teacher's pet. I'm really not. In fact, teachers' pets really piss me off. And I think Lupin's only been warmer to me because he's helping me with shit, and now... well, I can't really help that I've actually grown closer to Professor Collins. First name Lucy. She told me that one afternoon when we got to talking after class since it was the last period of the day.

She's cool. Like, mega-cool. She listens to jazz music ("but actually good jazz, not the bad stuff") and spends her free time painting watercolors, especially animals. She has some of this work in her desk drawer underneath the drawer crammed with student assignments. And she's really smart. Not just in a teacher way, but... she just knows a lot about everything.

She's just really easy to talk to. I sometimes have a lot of social anxiety, but with her, it's just easy. She makes it easy. I like her a lot.

"Is it weird that I'm having lunch with my Professor?" I say between bites of my sandwich, seated in a chair opposite of her at Lucy's desk. She's not sitting in her chair; she's actually on the edge of the table, one leg crossed over the other as she pokes through a bowl of salad.

She shrugs it off. "You're welcome to leave. But it would just leave me to actually grade assignments I'm putting off."

I grin. "Can I help?"

"No you certainly cannot," she scoffs.

"Come on!" I press. "I wanna write little comments on the papers... like 'not quite, and you're not on the right track'."

She laughs through her chewing. "It takes a whole lot of self-restraint to keep myself from doing that."

I smile, putting down my sandwich. "Do you like teaching here so far?"

"Yeah, I think so," she nods. "I like you kids. Especially your period. Minus the boys who continuously try to flirt with me."

I laugh. "They mean well, I'm sure."

"Do you think it's peculiar that I'm only about ten years older than you guys?" she asks, sifting through her salad leaves.

"No," I say confidently. "It's not strange, it's just... you have the smarts and the credibility for the position, and you happen to be younger than the 100-year-old teachers at this school."

She throws her head back and laughs. "Be nice. They are not 100."

"They're pretty old," I say.

"Okay," she sighs, shrugging in agreement. "They're pretty old. Don't tell anyone I said that. I'll be fired in my first term here."

I smile.

"How are you liking Theory so far?" she asks, looking up at me now. "Sorry. Magical Theory. I've always abbreviated it... you students will too, soon."

"I actually like it a lot, I think," I say. "And I'm not just saying that to suck up, I swear. It's just... it's cool to learn how all this stuff works, instead of just doing it and calling it a day. You know? I like to look at the deeper side of things."

"I've noticed that about you," she points her fork at me. "Maybe that's why we get along. Your first paper on an introduction to Magical Theory hinted at that to me, I think. Nicely done, by the way."

I smile. "Thanks."

"Your thesis statement needed a touchup, but overall, a great start to the year," she winks.

"Okay, alright now, let's not get into the logistics," I hold up my hands in defense and she chuckles.

"So," she brings both legs up onto the desk now in a cross-legged position, bowl resting in her lap as she chews away. "Got any activities outside of class going on? Are you a Quidditch girl?"